


Dusk

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 10:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The newborn heir of Erebor finally sleeps.





	Dusk

Your eyes burned. _When was the last time you had closed them? Truly closed them?_

The pale yellow light of the candle flickered just beside the cradle as you peered over the edge. The infant within dozed quietly, a stark contrast to its earlier tantrums. The girl had dark hair like her father along with his azure eyes, and she was just as stubborn, too. She squealed whenever you set her down. Or when she was hungry. Or need to be changed. Or was awake, really.

Those hours when she was asleep or with the nursemaid were bliss, or would be had you not other obligations. You still had to act the queen and even when you had your daughter in your arms, you could be found tending to your subjects or countermanding your husband in the council chambers.

It was when you were alone with her, without the maid or your husband, that you truly found yourself helpless.  _Damn the child,_ but you loved her and she you. So much so that it was near impossible to extricate yourself from her. So it was, that you were relieved to set her down in her cradle and watched as she slumbered. Quietly.

You yawned and carefully tiptoed the half-step to your own bed, laying down upon the coverlets with your head on the pillow so that you could see Thorna. You closed your eyes, lulled by the whisper of her snores, and the weight of your exhaustion set in. Within seconds, you were in a similar state; lost to the foggy gloom of the sleepworld. So tired, that dreams could not touch you.

* * *

Thorin entered the chambers to an unexpected silence. A single candle burned, near to a stump, and his two most precious jewels laid in similar repose. Thorna was upon her back in the cradle, her head leaned to one side, as if looking directly at her mother who mirror her position. The infant’s eyes moved around, having just opened at the sound of her father’s entrance.

Y/N’s eyes remained closed, her breath coming and going like a gentle breeze. Even those night when he was there to lay beside her, she did not seem to sleep. She was stirred by her child, calling to her at all hours, caring for her without gripe. It was a relief for the king to see her rest. The dark circles under her eyes, the sallow tone of her skin, and the permanent wrinkle forming in her brow told of her excess.

Thorna’s lips twitched and she murmured, Thorin rushing over to scoop up the child before it could grow to a full-blown wail. He pressed her warmly to his chest and cooed down at her, admiring her resemblance to her mother. If it were not for his colouring, she would be an exact reproduction. He began to sing under his breath as he reclined a chair before the low-burning hearth.

He sat with his daughter against him, his sonorous voice low enough that it did not wake his wife. He could still hear her steady breathing as he sang and the child reached up to pull at one of his braids and babble. He smiled. There were not many opportunities during his days to smile but he always had two waiting for him back in his chambers. He feared, at times, he did not promise the same respite for his queen.

Thorin had gone so far as to hire her a nursemaid; Darla, Dori’s young daughter, would follow around the bustling queen and yet, rarely held the child she had been enlisted to care for. Y/N had been a great wife but had proven herself an even more devoted mother. The king admired her as she held his child endlessly, fed her, tended to her, swaddled her, and doted on her.

He closed his eyes as he continued to sing, the splendor of his wife dancing in his mind. He did not notice when his voice had ceased or when his song had turned to snores. Or even that his child had fallen to sleep as quickly as she had woken. He dreamt of his wife and daughter, forgetting the troubles of his realm for the delight of his family.

* * *

You woke with a start, your heartbeat mounting as you saw the cradle beside you empty. The soft light of dawn streamed in through the balcony doors and you sat up with bated breath. The hearth had died in the night and a figure sat before it, a rumble of snores rising from Thorin as he slumbered there. You could see, in the shadow of his profile, that he held Thorna in his arms.

To your surprise and relief, she too was asleep. You stood, slowly, keeping your footsteps muffled as you neared the hearth. You struck up a fresh fire and hung the kettle silently, peeking over momentarily at the slumbering pair. You smiled as you pushed yourself to your feet and set two mugs out on the table for you and your husband. Thorna could take the breast and you and Thorin could enjoy a rare morning tea together…if you were not disturbed.

Often your plans were interrupted, dissembled by the business of being king. Thorin would leave with a thin apology and rueful frown. You would sigh and call for the nursemaid. When he could find the time, you were the one without it. It was hard to keep yourself from despair, especially as you sat alone with a wailing child and endless worries.

You brewed the tea and placed the cups on the small round table between the matching chairs before the hearth. Thorin already in one; his dark tresses hanging down his shoulder, the matching tuft of Thorna’s against his chest. You slowly reached out to touch his arm and called his name softly.

“Thorin,” He flinched but continued to snore, murmuring your name as he did and you repeated his. It was on the fifth attempt that he opened his deep blue eyes and smiled.

“It is  _not_  a dream,” He rasped, “Oh, how lovely it is to wake up to your precious face.”

“And to yours,” You leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead, “I’ve made tea. I’ll take Thorna, she’ll need to eat.”

“Do I truly have to?” He looked down at the child as she grabbed at his beard, having wakened at the vibrations of his voice.

“Just for a little,” You comforted and he reluctantly passed her over, replacing her with his cup of tea.

“You looked so peaceful when I returned,” He commented over the rim of his teacup, “You were almost smiling…I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too,” You sang as you focused on getting Thorna to latch.

“No, truly, I wish I could tell you more often how much I truly love you,” He stared at you, the heat of his gaze bringing up your eyes to meet his, “But today will have to do.”

“What do you mean?” You asked as Thorna began to suckle.

“Darla will take Thorna…and you will let her do so, Y/N.” He pointed his finger at you in his kingly command, “We will shed our crowns for the day and leave this Mountain behind.”

“Would that we could.” You said dreamily.

“We will,” Thorin swore as he sat forehead, setting down his teacup to reach over and set his hand upon your leg, “Balin can handle Erebor for the day. And my nephews are well in need of experience without me. And should Darla have any difficulties, Dis has raised those two rascals of her just fine.”

“Really?” You ventured, too cynical to believe his plan.

“Yes,” He stood and bent over you, kissing you on the lips, so passionately you thought he may smother the child. He had not shown you affection so rampant since before Thorna had been born, “Now, finish feeding that brat of mine and we’ll be off.”


End file.
